Transition
by trufflemores
Summary: 5x20, "The Untitled Rachel Berry Project" reaction fic. Kurt and Blaine have the loft to themselves for the first time. The next six months are going to be very, very different. Just some sweet Klaine reflection on the current status quo. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own for six months?"

"Mercedes, we're _engaged, _it'll be fine," Kurt assured, giving her another tight squeeze before letting her go. "Besides, if things don't work out in the loft, then Elliot offered his place to crash in when we need time to ourselves."

"But we really don't think we'll need it, now that it's just the two of us and not – the five of us trying to negotiate one space," Blaine interjected, setting the last of his boxes aside – four in total, and it amazed Kurt how much of a _person _could fit into four little boxes, all the knick-knacks and belongings that made Blaine's space _Blaine's_ – and wrapping her in a warm hug of his own. "We'll be okay, we promise. And if we have any adjustment issues, we know how to reach you." He pulled back after kissing the top of her head once, his smile a little wobbly around the edges as he held her at arms' length. "Are you sure _you'll_ be okay on tour?"

"I was _born _to be on tour; I'll be fine," she said, reaching up to pinch his nose before Blaine scrunched it up indignantly. "I'll text you guys as soon as my plane lands, okay? Relax. I'm not gonna get lost on my way to the airport and Sam will be with me for the whole first leg of the trip, anyway."

"Just make sure he doesn't get lost," Kurt said, rolling his eyes when Blaine pouted, a slightly worried edge to his smile. "_Honey._ They'll be fine."

"We will," Mercedes agreed, Blaine nodding quickly as he stepped back, gratefully leaning against Kurt's arm as Mercedes drew in a deep breath and gathered up her bags again.

Kurt didn't know what to say, then, as the three of them stood alone in the loft for the first and, seemingly, last time. There was a certain sobriety to it, parting after so many years – four short years, but four of the longest years of his life – together. "You should get back to Sam," he prompted at last, gently, and nodded towards the door.

Mercedes echoed his nod with a deep breath, a bright smile plastered on her face as she said, "I probably should. Try not to have too much fun without me, okay? And call me. Any time."

"We will," Blaine promised, his voice slightly choked in the way that it got when he was holding back everything – tears, laughter, what, Kurt couldn't tell. "Bye, Mercedes."

"Bye, 'Cedes," Kurt echoed, lifting a hand in one last twirling wave as Mercedes waltzed out of the room, sliding the door shut behind her and leaving solitude in its place.

"So, it's ours, now," Kurt said, after a solid ten seconds pass without a single breath between them, Blaine's shoulders relaxing slightly as he looked at Kurt, bit his lip, and nodded. "What's wrong?" he asked, refusing to let the tremulous quality to Blaine's smile slide. "Honey?"

Blaine swallowed and drew in a deep breath of his own, turning partially away from Kurt before managing, "Please don't – ever, ever leave me."

"Oh, honey." Kurt could feel tears pricking at his own eyes because _God, _this was happening, and it was amazing and terrifying and wonderful and unexpected all in one. Rachel was already gone, packed and shipped off on a flight to LA a week ago. Artie was living full time elsewhere and attending film school; and Sam and Mercedes were leaving now, too.

Everything was crashing down on them, leaving only the rubble of memories and a new foundation to build themselves in its place.

It was exhilarating. But it was also scary because Kurt didn't know what would happen when the waters rose high and threatened to drown them again without their friends to vent to. _We still have friends, _he reminded himself firmly. Elliot would be back from his yoga retreat within the month, and once Dani's season was over she would be back, too. Sure, it would be strange with Santana moving out of town to work on her burgeoning publicist career and Brittany trailing after her like a lost puppy, but it wouldn't be _bad._

They had the space – they had the _city _– to themselves. At last. No intrusions, no inhibitions, no holds barred on their tiny oasis.

"Come here," he urged, once the trembling in Blaine's shoulders had spread down to his fingertips, and he clutched at Kurt the moment that he was within reach, not crying, not really, just – coping, adjusting the schemas in his mind to accommodate _alone _and _New York _and _friendless _and _Kurt._

They weren't friendless, Kurt knew, and he tried to convey every ounce of certainty that he felt as he rubbed Blaine's back slowly, comfortingly. Mercedes really was just a phone call away, and Rachel would respond eventually to his texts or calls, and Artie was right in the city with them. Sam would respond if they called him, too, and Kurt knew that they would adjust to the aloneness just as they had adjusted to living with four other roommates.

It would be different, quieter. But it would be good for them. Kurt refused to let it be anything _but _good for them.

"I'm never gonna leave you," he promised, gathering Blaine as close as he could in the center of their quiet, too-big apartment. "Whatever happens, wherever we end up – we're a team. And we're in this together. I'm not gonna lose you and you're not gonna lose me. Okay?"

Blaine nodded slowly against his shoulder, the trembling gradually subsiding as Kurt rubbed his back until his own hand was tingly from the warmth and his head filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of Blaine's breathing. "It's okay," he insisted, because it was, it would be, it was. He would make it so.

"I know," Blaine agreed, squeezing him back carefully, gently. "I do. It's just –"

"A lot."

"Yes."

Kurt sighed, releasing him slowly and looking at him in the eye, red-rimmed though they were. "It's okay," he repeated.

Blaine's gaze flicked from his own to the wall and back again, at last shifting down to their hands as he intertwined them. "I could – make dinner? If that would help – ease the transition."

"That would be really nice," Kurt said, relieved to have something else to focus on – and it _was _late enough that he was hungry, they'd been too busy helping Mercedes and Sam pack up to bother with a lunch for themselves – other than the echoing silence. "Let me help you," he insisted.

Blaine licked his lips, considered, and nodded again, a slow smile blooming on his face as he tugged Kurt's hand towards the kitchen. "Okay," he agreed.

And Kurt knew that things would be different and lonely and sad, sometimes, but they could also be good, filled with laughter that he didn't have to worry about suppressing and full smiles and lingering kisses without interruption.

New York alone was different, Kurt knew.

But New York alone was also very, very good, and Kurt fully intended to make the most of it, curling his hands around Blaine's waist and tugging him away from the counter for one more grateful, searing kiss.


End file.
